by Brown, TW
“Look.” Danny handed his glasses to the man and continued to observe the scene with his naked eye.
“None of our perimeter fences can withstand that,” Danny breathed.
“Anybody who doesn’t run for it will be swept under,” Jody said.
“I don’t think the tower sentry can see as well as we can,” Danny said as he handed the glasses back.
“Which means that the captain will issue a standard defensive order.”
“Everybody in camp will retreat to the municipal building,” Danny added.
“And the citizens will be left out in the open,” Jody continued. “Only, there is no way that they can make any sort of real stand in that building. In fact, I don’t think the first floor barricades will last an hour. They will be compromised with no hope for escape.”
“We need to warn them.” Danny took a few steps forward, but Jody stayed put. He was halfway down the cement walkway before he turned back to Jody with a questioning look on his face.
“I’m not going,” Jody said with a shake of his head.
“You want to split up and head to the school?” Danny asked.
“I’m not going there either,” Jody said.
“Am I missing something?” Danny glanced over his shoulder like he half-expected the massive mob of undead to be at the end of the driveway.
“You might make it in…but I doubt you will make it out.” Jody came down off the porch and approached his friend. “And as for the school, most of them are so weak, they won’t make it more than an hour before they need to stop.”
“So tell me what you’re saying,” Danny challenged. “Are you prepared to just leave all of the guys behind…and the men women and children of Bald Knob that we are sworn to protect and defend.”
“It’s over, Danny,” Jody said with a hitch in his voice. “I don’t like it…but it is over. There is no more Gunslingers, no more United States Army…hell, man, there’s no more United States. There hasn’t been for a long time. All there is now is what is in your boots. You have to take care of you…and leave the rest for God.”
“But you were going to stand up to the captain…you were gonna stand up to Slider—”
“Who were we kidding?” Jody snapped. “Slider is a trained killer…the captain hitched his wagon to the only man he thought would keep him alive. They knew the score, they just went about it in a way that you and I wouldn’t. They didn’t care what they did to survive. If you don’t think Slider knows every move we could possibly make beforehand, then you took too many fastballs to the head.”
“But—” Danny sputtered, but he couldn’t find an argument that didn’t have a million holes in it.
“I’m going north…Canada maybe,” Jody said. “Maybe if we go far enough north, we’ll either run out of people, or it will just be so damn cold that those things will be frozen solid.”
“You bringing Selina?” Jody whispered.
“If she wants to come,” Jody replied with a shrug.
“If I come…can I make a request?”
“Sure.”
“If, for some strange reason, we end up near New York—”
“I said away from people,” Jody snorted.
“Yeah…but you never know…I just want your word that if we are in New York, you’ll let me piss on home plate in Yankee Stadium.”
“Deal.”
***
Charles “Slider” Monterro heard something wailing in the distance. He looked up at the sky and smiled. Pulling his knife out of the temple of the zombie, he let the body fall to the ground.
That one had been sneaky. It was another of those damn kids. For some reason, many—not all, but enough to be noticeable—of the zombies of children between the ages of what he had to guess to be five and ten were displaying some peculiar tendencies. He hadn’t really noticed until he’d overheard a few of the soldiers talking about it around camp. He’d never let one live long enough to observe its behavior.
The past several days, he’d kept his eyes peeled any time he was out in the field. Up until today, he hadn’t seen any kids. He imagined the reason that they were so scarce had to be because there was not enough to come back more often than not when one of the little ones went down.
“People McNuggets,” Slider scoffed.
He glanced down at the one he’d just killed. A boy, maybe eight or nine years old. His left arm was gone and he looked to be wearing what remained of a set of coveralls.
Probably some farmer’s kid, Slider thought as he wiped off his blade.
He continued through the woods, following the tracks of the deer he’d been after since before sunrise. Almost fifteen minutes ago—although it seemed like much longer after having to take down that zombie farm boy—he’d put an arrow in the damn thing. It had jumped just as he let go, which caused him to miss the heart and catch the poor animal in the flank.
Being out like this brought back memories of a mission in the foothills of the Arma Mountains in Afghanistan. He’d been tasked to finish a take down that another sniper had missed. Actually, he hadn’t missed entirely, he’d winged his target. Unfortunately, the Air Force had not been aware that an operative was in the area and a drone had taken out the operative. Slider had moved fast and caught the target in a cave. The man was huddled by a small fire obviously no longer caring about remaining hidden. It was very seldom that a sniper had to look his target in the eyes. Slider had been a little disturbed by how much he’d enjoyed that kill.
After about an hour, he came to a clearing and his quarry. He felt a twinge of sadness at the obvious suffering the animal was experiencing. Small puffs of steam came in rapid bursts from its nostrils.
It took a staggering step away as he emerged through the trees. Slider already had an arrow nocked. He quickly drew back to his cheek and took very careful aim. He wanted to put the deer out of its misery as quickly as possible. He let go, the twang of the bow and the hiss of the arrow were almost loud in the peace of the forest…and a dead world.
Drawing his knife, he crossed to the downed animal. He was pretty sure that his shot had ended the deer, but it never hurt to be careful. More than one hunter had been surprised at the ferocity in which a deer will struggle for its life when mortally wounded.
After all, Slider thought, they are wild animals.
He knelt beside the downed animal and yanked the arrow from the eye socket. After inspecting the projectile and deciding that the cracked shaft meant that it was not reusable, he cast it aside and went to work field-dressing the carcass. This would keep him well fed for a few weeks.
He very seldom actually ate a meal in the mess tent. In fact, the only reason he made an appearance in there at all was to hear what the men were talking about. It was strictly low-level intel gathering tactics, but he was always amazed at how individuals felt that their conversations were confined to the space they sat in.
Once he was done and all the meat was loaded into his pack, he began the trek home—or at least the place he currently called home. He had to really think back to the last place he had stayed at for longer than a few months. The funny thing was, this place had been his home longer than anyplace else in the past fifteen years.
Slider was weaving through some young pines when he smelled something on the wind. Setting his pack down, he quickly adjusted his attitude. He’d been actually feeling pretty good about the day, and for him, feeling truly good about anything was a rarity.
Hunkering down, he duck-walked to the edge of the woods and looked down. What he saw was unsettling. He imagined that some people might think he was some sort of fearless warrior, unmoved by all that had transpired. Quite the opposite.
He’d been visiting an old buddy at the veteran’s hospital when this nightmare had unfolded. He still remembered fighting his way out of there from the eleventh floor. It had apparently started down in the ER with a few victims brought in with assorted bites. He still had nightmares of what he’d witnessed in the pediatrics and materni
ty floors. Back then, he had shifted into his “Protector” mode. He had left “Slider” behind, and mistakenly believed that that part of him was buried for good.
Within seventy-two hours, he had come to a decision. His only chance at survival was to take care of himself. He couldn’t worry about anybody else. It was simply a sad reality. That night, he walked away from the small group he had been travelling with.
Now, as he looked down into the very slight valley with Bald Knob at its head. The sea of undead would wipe out everything in its path. He was very aware of the contingency plan put in place by the captain. He’d thought at the time that it was short-sighted and foolish. However, that was why he had his own contingency plan.
As he took a seat and watched the herd—he guessed it to number well over a hundred thousand—close in, he heard the first strains of the warning siren down in Bald Knob. From his vantage point, he could actually see the amorphous blob of walking corpses refine its direction and hone in on its target.
He wished that he’d brought his bug-out kit. There was so much gear that he knew he would miss. However, that was the beauty of the new world. Everything he wanted was still out there someplace. He just needed to find it.
He stayed for a while out of curiosity. He wanted to see what would happen. He wished that he had his field glasses. Hell, even a scope from a rifle would be nice. However, he didn’t need either to see and hear the mayhem down in Bald Knob. The leading edge of the zombie mob slammed into the town full force. Slider almost chuckled at the logic that had gone behind the barbed wire fencing that surrounded the area.
He heard the screams along with the pathetically few echoes of gunfire. They had been dangerously low on ammunition for quite some time. However, it was what he saw to the east of his location that interested him the most. Three lone figures, each carrying what looked like fairly large and full backpacks, heading away. Of course it was too far away to make a positive identification, but he was willing to bet it was Sergeant Rafe.
12
Emily
As we turned down the almost invisible trail road that would dump us in the campground’s opening in the dense woods, my mind was trying to shake off the numbness. With the exception of Mr. Dean Patton and the little girl—who still glared at me like I’d strangled a puppy in front of her—the rest of the survivors had died the first night.
Misty Dell, the little girl, had kicked and screamed when we’d put the dead bodies outside. Something in her mind was simply not processing that dead meant dead. And why should it? I thought. She’d seen so many supposedly dead people get up that I am sure it was more than a little confusing.
Of course this had brought on a whole new set of internal conflicts for me to resolve. I’d gotten into some heated arguments with Jesus and Jake—and pretty much everybody else for that matter—when it came to Thalia and Emily being exposed to the zombies and the day-to-day situations we faced. I could not imagine the lengths that people had gone to in order to keep little Misty shielded from the horrors of this dead world.
I’d asked Jon why they hadn’t brought this little girl with them on the first trip. I wasn’t too surprised when he revealed that they hadn’t been aware of her existence. The group must’ve had her hidden for some reason or another. Well, we were almost home and I could get to the bottom of that later. When we made the final turn for home, I filed that one away with the million other unanswered questions.
As we drove between the berms, I could see a group out on the porch waiting for our arrival. Honestly, I just wanted to wrap my arms around Melissa and the girls and not let go for a week.
“They’ve seen some action,” Jon commented as we came to a stop just before the bridge.
“Huh?” I snapped out of my reverie and looked around.
“Lots of tracks in the snow over to the left all down that side of the hill.” Jon pointed.
Well it couldn’t have been any worse than what we dealt with, I thought as I pulled on my hat and gloves. Dr. Zahn was bundling up Misty, mostly since the girl wouldn’t have anything to do with either Jon or me.
“When we get up to the house, you will meet Thalia and Emily,” Dr. Zahn was saying as she zipped the girl’s coat up.
We climbed out and I glanced at the huge makeshift sled that we’d loaded with food that we collected on the way back. As an added bonus, Jon had also dropped a pair of elk that first day after we left behind that nightmare of an outpost. I still could not get over how awful that group had had things when you compared them to us. Of course, if this Mr. Patton was any indication, they didn’t have squat for leadership. He was curled up in the fetal position most of the time and whimpering. Even now, as we were getting out of the Snowcat, he was hunched up so tight that he more fell than climbed out.
I hadn’t taken two steps up the winding trail that would lead to the house when Sunshine came barreling around the corner. At first, I envied Jon. After all, with Melissa being visibly pregnant now, she wasn’t doing anything beyond a brisk walk. That’s why I was more than a little surprised when Sunshine bee-lined for me. Of course that would give Jon some time to prepare an explanation about his hand.
“Oh, Steven, thank God you’re here,” she gasped.
I looked closer and realized that her gasp could be equal parts fatigue from running down to us and choking back tears. My heart skipped a beat as I tried to think as to whether or not I’d actually seen Melissa in that group on the porch awaiting our arrival.
“Just tell me that she is okay,” I blurted. “I can handle it if she lost the baby as long as she is okay.”
Sunshine looked at me for a second as if perhaps she’d gotten the wrong person. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath like she was about to deliver the knock out punch to my heart. I tried to brace myself for it, but I knew that it was useless. This was going to hurt.
“It’s Emily.”
Those words hung in the cold air for a second as if the sub-freezing temperatures had fixed them to the little cloud of condensation that had spewed from her mouth when she spoke.
I guess it took a few seconds for me to react, because all of a sudden, Dr. Zahn was at my side. She had me by the arm for some reason.
“What about Emily?” Dr. Zahn said in a voice barley above a whisper.
“She and the other kids were playing in the snow,” Sunshine started slow, but her words quickly picked up momentum and seemed to be jumbling together in my head. “…place that they always ride the sled. Jake was there and DeAngelo was close by chopping wood. When she screamed, I think we all thought it was just girlish squealing. I think it was Fiona who saw the blood. She was on watch in the tower, so I guess she could actually see right down into the snow—”
“Are you trying to tell me that a zombie made it all the way across the field and to the hill?” Dr. Zahn snapped, cutting Sunshine off so abruptly that her teeth clicked when her mouth shut.
“No,” Sunshine shook her head. “It was under the snow. A creeper.”
Everything fell into place in a bizarre slow motion. When what had been said finally dawned on me, I took off up the hill. By the time I reached the flat parking lot at the top, my lungs were on fire and my head was swimming.
DeAngelo, his wife Melinda, Nickie Bailey, and Doug Coates were all standing on the porch. DeAngelo said something to the others and came down the stairs to meet me. It was at this point that the world seemed to shift into that dream-like quality where my feet were bogged down in quicksand and I moved in slow motion.
“Steve,” DeAngelo said. His deep voice rattled around in my head, and I had this feeling that he was going to try and stop me from going inside.
“I want to see her.” I kept forcing my feet to take step after grueling step.
I remembered back to when I’d thought that Thalia had been bitten. Maybe this would be like that time. Maybe Emily would be fine.
“She is pretty heavily sedated.” DeAngelo made that sound important. For some reason, my brai
n wasn’t making any of those connections right now.
“I want to see her,” I repeated. By now we’d reached each other in the snow-covered parking lot.
“I’ll take you, but I want you to know that we’ve done everything we can to keep her comfortable.
“When did it happen?” I asked. I wasn’t sure if Sunshine had told me. In fact, now that I was thinking about it, I couldn’t recall one single word that she’d said.
“Late yesterday afternoon.”
I ran through everything in my mind. If we hadn’t stopped at that small town on the way back…if Jon hadn’t gone off for a few hours to bag those elk…if Dr. Zahn hadn’t insisted on stopping to camp so early…if I hadn’t insisted on making this run…
“It wouldn’t have mattered if you’d been here or not,” DeAngelo said as if he’d read my thoughts.
“How could this…” My voice trailed off. I didn’t even know what to ask.
When we reached the porch, I saw the same look in every set of eyes that looked back at me: sorrow. There would be no miracle this time. I was going to lose one of my girls. I had failed Randall Smith.
The sounds of somebody running to catch up with me made my head snap around sharply enough to send a twinge of pain between my shoulders. Dr. Zahn was coming across the parking lot at a speed I don’t think I’d ever seen her display.
“DeAngelo, go help Jon,” she ordered, using that tone that left no room for discussion. “We have supplies and a couple of survivors, including a young girl that may present some problems. They are almost completely incapacitated.”
With that, the doctor and I headed inside.
Melissa was there to greet me. I only had the briefest flash of concern when I didn’t see Thalia. Everybody that hadn’t been on the porch—except for Thalia and the stupid dog…and of course, Emily—was standing around in the huge entry room. As my gaze swept the room, all eyes told the same story.
“Where is she?” I asked. Actually, it took me three tries to get that out of my throat and past my lips.
